


when you're ready, we'll turn the page together

by merlinn



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, F/M, Lykon-centric, M/M, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Minor Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Office Shenanigans, Team as Family, White Elephant Gift Exchange, aspec lykon? aspec lykon, pranks pining and presents in that order, there's some romance but it's really about found family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlinn/pseuds/merlinn
Summary: On Tuesday, Lykon arrives only a few minutes early, having stopped for Starbucks on the way to work. Nicky had gone in early again to craft with Nile, so in theory, there should be coffee ready. Lykon also knows that Booker is petty enough to sacrifice sleep for retribution and isn’t taking any chances.Or: the holiday season brings about a prank war and a white elephant gift exchange.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache & Booker & Nile Freeman & Joe & Lykon & Nicky & Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Lykon, Lykon & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Lykon/Celeste (The Old Guard), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 31
Collections: The Old Guard Gift Exchange 2020





	when you're ready, we'll turn the page together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayQueen517](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayQueen517/gifts).



>   
> Surprise! This was supposed to be 5k and now it is somehow 10k... I really hope you like it!  
>   
> I have a lot of friends who work in consulting in DC, so everything I've written about consulting is based on what I've absorbed from them—I apologize for any inconsistencies. Just for clarification: Lykon and Nile are working on a project with Andy as their managing director, Joe and Booker are working together under Quỳnh, and Nicky is working on another project altogether.  
>   
> The title is from Rina Sawayama's "Chosen Family."  
> 

When Lykon reaches the office on Monday morning, coffee is the only thing on his mind. His floor is fairly empty at this time, but he prefers a slow transition back into the busy workweek. At his cubicle, he tosses his bag onto his chair, boots up his desktop, and heads straight for the coffee machine. Six years ago, when he first joined the firm, Andy had advised him to never do anything at home you could do on company time. She’d waved him out of her office with a toothbrush. Lykon is still not sure if that part had been a joke or not—he can never tell with Andy.

In the break room, Lykon finds Nile sitting at the table with what looks like an explosion of craft materials. Behind her, Nicky is standing on a chair and putting up a glittery paper snowflake. Christmas music is playing softly from Nile’s phone. They both turn to smile at him when he asks, “What’s going on in here?”

“We thought we’d get a headstart on decorating for the holidays. Nile is teaching me how to make snowflakes,” Nicky says.

“It’s a staple of the American public school system.” Nile holds up a piece of recycled computer paper and a pair of scissors.

Lykon rounds the table, staring at the two coffee cups swallowed up by the sea of crafting materials, and makes his way over to the coffee pot. “When you said you were going in early to work on a project, this is _not_ what I thought you meant, Nicky.”

“It’s very relaxing. I think we should make it a part of the team building programming.” Nicky hovers above him, wiggling his glitter-covered fingers over Lykon’s open coffee cup. Lykon bats his hand away and dumps a few sugar packets in.

He leans against the counter and takes a pull from his cup. When Nicky reaches for another snowflake, Lykon grasps a clean corner and hands him a shimmery red one. There’s another pile on an empty chair he suspects is for around the cubicles.

Lykon takes in the neat row of glitter bottles at Nile’s elbow. Hiding a grin behind his coffee, he gestures towards them and asks, “Can I borrow one?”

Nile narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“I promise it’s for a noble cause.”

“That means a prank,” Nicky calls.

Nile leans back in her chair and smiles. “As long as Andy doesn’t kill us, have at it.”

Lykon reaches over and takes the silvery-white glitter. He also peruses her stick-on gems and plucks two large gold stars from the pile. They look too large for their snowflakes anyway. He thanks her and makes a beeline for the cubicles.

When he reaches his target’s desk, Lykon pulls out the chair and dumps glitter onto the seat. He swivels the chair around to spread it out. Before he pushes the chair back in, he also peels the backs off the gold stars and strategically places them. His target is _not_ a morning person and blindly (Lykon argues dramatically) throws himself into his chair every morning. Snickering, he hurries back to his own desk and waits.

At eight o’clock, his coworkers begin to file in. Lykon works through his coffee and his inbox. He pulls out his laptop and outlines a to-do list for the day. At 8:15 on the dot, Joe rolls through with a Starbucks to-go carrier. He’s going to drop off Andy and Quỳnh’s orders, so Lykon teases, “Kiss-up!”

Joe winks at him and keeps walking. A half-asleep Booker trails behind him. On the way to his own cubicle, he raps Lykon’s divider in greeting. “Nice of you to join us, Book,” he replies, fighting to keep a straight face.

It takes another three torturous hours for the payoff. Nile walks by his cubicle a few times and shoots him curious glances. Lykon smiles back and continues to go about his day. He hears a few people compliment the festive decorations in passing.

Just as he’s getting off a call with a senior associate working under him, Lykon hears a string of French expletives from a few rows over followed by Joe’s belly laugh. His phone lights up with a text from Nile. It’s a video of Booker from behind and his ass and thighs are _covered_ in sparkling white glitter. A gold star hugs each butt cheek, one stuck higher than the other.

“Hey, uh, Book?” video-Nile calls, laughter in her voice. He stops and faces her with a warm smile, canting his head. “You got a little something…all over.”

Video-Booker frowns and looks down his front. “Where?”

“Right…there.” Nile’s hand makes a sweeping motion.

A wide-eyed video-Joe comes up behind Booker and asks, “What _happened_ to you? Did you escape from a snow globe?”

Booker twists and finally catches sight of the back of his suit. He swears loudly, sending Nile and Joe into laughing fits. “How the fuck did this happen?” Booker spits, red-faced. He plucks the stars off his ass and wipes a hand down his trousers but only manages to spread the glitter.

“Well, Nicky and I _did_ have a visitor to Santa’s workshop this morning,” Nile says, singsong.

Booker looks up and glares at her. The video stops at that.

Lykon rewatches it a few more times and pats himself on the back for a successful prank.

> **Nile**
> 
> Book’s floor is Covered in glitter LMAO.
> 
> **Lykon**
> 
> The floor is 100% his fault. Maybe someone needs to show him where the vacuum is?

He prints off a floor plan and highlights the route from Booker’s desk to the nearest supply closet. Lykon realizes he’s probably pushing it, but he can’t remember the last time he’s had this much fun. Even with the few days he had off for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago he feels burnt out—he can’t remember the last time he had any sort of spontaneity in his daily life.

Lykon leaves the printout on Booker’s desk and drops off the glitter at Nile’s on his way to the breakroom. He grabs his lunch and walks to Andy’s office to join his friends for their longstanding lunch.

Lykon lets himself in to find everyone else already sprawled across the furniture. Andy and Quỳnh are curled up together on the loveseat, sharing food from one large container; Joe and Nile have snagged the two armchairs; Nicky is sitting in Andy’s swivel chair. Lykon stifles a laugh when he catches sight of Booker sitting on a large towel—who keeps those in an office?—to keep the upholstery clean.

He takes the free chair next to the couch and settles in, letting the ongoing conversation wash over him. When he unpacks his lunch, Lykon finds the slice of Nicky’s carrot cake gone. Frowning, he looks up and opens his mouth to complain. He makes eye contact with Booker first, who’s glaring at him and chewing aggressively.

In his hands, he’s holding a piece of cake. _Lykon’s_ carrot cake.

“This is war,” Booker mouths.

On Tuesday, Lykon arrives only a few minutes early, having stopped for Starbucks on the way to work. Nicky had gone in early again to craft with Nile, so in theory, there should be coffee ready. Lykon also knows that Booker is petty enough to sacrifice sleep for retribution and isn’t taking any chances.

It proves to be the right decision because Lykon’s barely made it through the door when Nicky makes a beeline for him. “Booker has switched all of the sugar packets for salt!”

Lykon raises his eyebrows, taking a pull from his Starbucks cup. “And how did he manage that?”

Nicky’s scowl deepens, his cheeks growing red. “Joe came in to see what we were working on, and we all got…distracted.”

Lykon snorts. “You mean _you_ were distracted?”

He expected nothing less: it’s an open secret that Nicky all but melts at the sight of Joe’s big brown eyes and bright smile.

“That’s beside the point. Booker’s willing to play dirty and does not care who’s caught in the crossfire. I’d like to help you.”

Lykon grins. “I could use a co-conspirator. Welcome to the winning team.”

He remembers that Nicky has an important meeting with his client today, so they agree to plan properly over dinner at their apartment.

When Lykon reaches his desk, he stops in his tracks. His cubicle is not large by any means, but Booker has managed to cover every square inch with full cups of water. Lykon can’t help but feel impressed; Booker and Joe are formidable pranksters.

That feeling fades quickly when he realizes that there is no simple way to get into his office. He tries to hold onto the edge of his desk but ends up knocking over a row of cups. Swearing, he pats himself down for the Starbucks napkins he stuffed into his coat.

He decides that the best way to clean up this prank as fast and efficiently as possible is by grabbing a bucket from the supply closet—he’s all too aware that he walked into this one—and dumping the water into one big container. Still, Lykon feels like an idiot sitting on the ground outside of his cubicle with a bucket on one side and a growing stack of cups on the other. As the office fills, coworkers laugh awkwardly and stare as they try to shuffle past him to get to their own desks.

At 8:30, Nile finds him still clearing off his desk. She takes in the stacks of cups in the corner with a grin and whips out her phone. Lykon rolls his eyes, which shifts into a grimace when he sits back in his soggy chair.

“Have you taken up cup stacking in your free time, Lykon?” Nile teases.

“No, I didn’t have time to shower this morning, so I thought I’d take Andy’s advice and do it on company time,” Lykon says dryly. She laughs. “You’ll be happy to know, Book, that my suit is very damp. It’s not pleasant.”

“Let the prank war begin,” Nile declares and lowers her phone.

Before she leaves, Nile asks to set up a meeting to go over her goals for the next year. She really only needs to speak with her mentor about them, but they’ve worked together almost every day for the past three months, and Lykon is more than happy to give her feedback. They set the meeting for Thursday afternoon, and Nile leaves with a smile.

Lykon swivels around and tries to ignore how his chair makes an unpleasant squelching noise with any slight movement. It’s going to be a long day.

He looks over at the picture frames lined up on his desk and suddenly realizes that Booker and Joe have tampered with them. Grumbling under his breath, Lykon reaches out for the picture of him and his siblings at Naomi’s high school graduation. He wedges his thumbnail under one of the glittery gems and carefully pries it from the frame.

When he’s cleaned it off, Lykon brushes his fingers across the frame. He wonders how Cassius’s freshman hall is fairing after the latest bout of drama, and if Ny’s calculus course has gotten any easier. _I should give them a call this week; it’s been too long._

Lykon settles deeper into his chair and scrubs a hand over his face. He decides to leave the other two picture frames for later. He pulls up the string of tabs he’s going to need for his first call of the day and exchanges a few messages with a junior associate on his project.

An hour into the meeting, Lykon is growing dreadfully bored. He tries his best to take notes but very little of this content is new information to him. It doesn’t help that the sparkling picture frames keep catching his eye, and his chair is squishy, and _fuck_ if he doesn’t want to get Booker back.

Against his better judgment, he opens a new Word doc on his laptop and writes down some ideas he’s been entertaining. After the stunts Booker pulled this morning, he has to get creative with his pranks.

  * Loosen/take out screws in desk chair
  * Rewire phone to neighbor’s
  * Fill drawers with that cinnamon candy he hates
  * Butt dial CEO
  * Email blast the ray ban promotion via his email
  * Glitter in lunch and/or coffee
  * He’s French



He sends it off to Nicky, asking for feedback, and unmutes himself on the call.

Today Joe and Booker have commandeered the sofa, leaving Andy and Quỳnh the armchairs. Lykon takes Andy’s nice desk chair, so he doesn’t really mind the rearrangement. Nicky and Nile don’t show up; the former had texted Lykon that they were going out to get proper coffee since the breakroom’s sugar had yet to be returned. _Maybe this will make Nile more amenable to helping the winning team._

Joe offers him a cheeky smile when he looks up from his lunch, a stark contrast to Booker’s triumphant smirk. Lykon rolls his eyes. He understands Nile and Nicky’s plight, but he wishes he had moral support. Andy and Quỳnh, their respective managing directors, seem content to watch from the sidelines for once.

His friends take in his damp suit, and he chuckles in spite of himself. Booker and Joe had clearly struggled to keep cups upright. Lykon had left his desk chair next to a warm vent and hopes it dries over lunch.

“Have a nice shower?” Andy asks, eyebrows raised.

“I did. Thanks for asking, boss. I used this new soap called ‘Oui Oui Bar-guette.’” He turns to Booker with feigned surprise. “Hey, Book, you might like it!”

Mid-sip, Booker flips him off. Joe and Quỳnh laugh, and Lykon doesn’t miss the way he unconsciously turns to look at the empty chairs before catching himself.

The conversation turns to plans for the upcoming break. Everyone is traveling: Andy and Quỳnh are off to Iceland (it’s Andy’s turn to pick), Joe is seeing a university friend in California, and Booker and Nile are visiting their respective families in Marseille and Chicago. He and Nicky, Lykon tells them, are picking up his sister Naomi from the train station and driving up to Pittsburgh.

“Nicky’s not going back home?” Andy asks.

“No, he’s made plans for Easter though. It sounds like there’s a lot going on, and Nicky just wanted a quiet break. His sister Natalia’s planning on coming down from New York to join us.”

“Is the world ready for Naomi and Natalia to team up?” Joe asks.

Lykon laughs. “Absolutely not—Nicky, Cass, I are fucked. Be on the lookout for our smoke signals when you’re lounging on the beach.” He turns to Andy and Quỳnh. “By the way, thanks for hosting the holiday party this year.”

“It’s the least we could do after last year,” Quỳnh says, sheepish. “Andy and I were thinking of making it a brunch instead of the usual soiree—maybe for once it can be a classy affair instead of a messy one.”

Booker chuckles. “That’s an admirable goal. We don’t want to scare off poor Nile.”

Lykon thinks about how Nile has tactfully involved herself in their prank war without choosing a side and shrugs. “She can hold her own.”

“Regardless,” Andy says, throwing a warning look around the room, “I think we should avoid upsetting Drunk Nicky at all costs.”

Lykon smirks at the way Booker pales.

Nicky intercepts him on the way back to his desk with a suspiciously wide grin. Intrigued, Lykon asks, “What’s up?”

“I want to share my prank feedback,” Nicky says, green eyes twinkling.

Lykon gives the surrounding area a cursory glance. “Okay, what’d you think? You could’ve just emailed me back; I know that important call of yours is in, what, an hour?”

To his confusion, Nicky reaches into his pocket and pulls out a couple of screws. He places them in Lykon’s hand and, in that cryptic way of his, says, “You might want to hold onto these.”

Lykon raises his eyebrows and asks, “So you guys didn’t actually go get coffee?”

“We did, but Nile and I also made a trip to Safeway.”

Nicky reaches into his other pocket and pops something into his mouth. He chews, and his face twists with disgust. “These Hot Tamales aren’t very good. I see why Book hates them.”

 _My prank feedback?_ Lykon examines the screws again and laughs. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you.”

Nicky grins wickedly. “I merely carried out your ideas: you’re the brains of this operation.”

“What happened to waiting until dinner?”

“Nile and I could not let them win the day! And we still have to plan for the rest of the week.” With a wink, he starts to walk away but in the opposite direction of his cubicle.

“Nick, where are you going?” Lykon calls, exasperated.

“I’m just stretching my legs…and I have a feeling Booker will be getting back to his desk right about now.”

Lykon hurries after him.

They find Nile kneeling behind a large fake plant that sits across from Booker’s corner cubicle. She props her phone up, grinning. Lykon and Nicky crouch down behind her, peering over her shoulders. Lykon asks, “So, have we successfully convinced you to join Team Lykon?”

Nile snorts. “This is an exception because that coffee was a kick in the pants this morning.”

“So, did you just get Booker, or does Joe have a surprise waiting for him as well?”

“No, this is between you—”

“I left a little something—”

They both pause. Nicky frowns and asks, “Nile, what did you do?”

She grins sheepishly and shakes a box of Hot Tamales into her mouth. “I left him a little heart made out of candy.” Nicky covers his face. “What’re you worried about? He’s gonna know it was us when he sees Booker’s drawers.”

“That’s _why_ I’m worried!” Nicky says.

“Maybe it’ll prompt Joe to think about—"

Lykon shushes them. “Book’s coming!”

They all press themselves more firmly along the wall. Lykon cannot get comfortable with Nicky’s broad shoulders pinning him in place, but he quickly forgets about it when Booker strides over to his desk. Lykon stifles a laugh when Booker pulls his chair out and carefully checks the seat before he sinks down into it. Nicky leans forward with an expression of unbridled glee Lykon has seen only a handful of times.

They sit there for a few minutes, and nothing has happened—all Booker’s done is log back into his desktop and flip between browsers. Lykon tries to shift into a position better for his cramping legs. Suddenly, Booker’s phone rings. He leans back when he answers it and with a loud crack, the back of Booker’s desk chair snaps off. He tumbles onto his back with a shout, legs up in the air and twisted in the phone cord. Lykon, Nile, and Nicky cover their mouths, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Booker sits up and passes a hand through his hair. He picks up the receiver and murmurs, “Carol, can I call you back?”

He looks so dead inside; Nicky struggles to muffle his snort-laugh. At that moment, Booker clocks the three of them behind the fake plant. He scowls as they crawl out from their hiding place.

Lykon holds the screws up to Nile’s phone with a cheeky grin and places them on Booker’s desk. “Time to put that engineering degree of yours to use, Book,” Nicky quips.

“Feel free to use my chair, but it might still be a little damp,” Lykon adds.

“You guys are the worst.”

“ _You_ didn’t have to start the day with salty coffee,” Nile says.

Booker shoos them out of his cubicle with promises of revenge. Lykon’s looking forward to it.

Around 3 o’clock, he checks his phone. Booker’s sent a picture of his desk drawers, which are all filled to the brim with Hot Tamales.

> **Booker**
> 
> Fuck you guys. My cubicle smells like cinnamon.
> 
> **Nicky**
> 
> Our living room (still) smells like whiskey :)
> 
> **Lykon**
> 
> ^^^
> 
> **Nile**
> 
> Love you too B <3

When Lykon and Nicky get back to their apartment that night, it’s a little after 7 o’clock. Lykon changes and returns to the living room, practically melting into the couch cushions. Nicky shuffles around the kitchen—it’s his turn to make dinner—and calls, “I’m making _picagge,_ and then we are prank planning!”

“Sounds good to me,” Lykon murmurs, pulling a throw blanket over himself. “I’ll be over here taking a nap.”

Nicky chuckles. “I’m using spinach, so it’s going to be _green_ _picagge_. When I was a child, I used to think they looked like Christmas trees.”

“Very festive of you,” Lykon mumbles.

He drifts off thinking about the slide deck he needs to make for a meeting with the client on Friday, what time they’ll need to pick up Naomi from the train station, who’ll be bartending at Gina’s this weekend, what his mother is cooking for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Nicky is just putting the finishing touches on the pasta when he gets up. Lykon pulls out their leftover salad from the night before and begins to set the table. When they’re seated, Lykon looks at the long green strips of pasta dusted with parmesan and says, “They _do_ kinda look like Christmas trees.”

Nicky’s mouth curls into a small smile. “And what is the verdict?”

“Shit, Nicky, it’s really good. I’m honored to be the official taste tester for the future Mr. Yusuf di Genova.”

“Oh, hush.” After a moment, Nicky mutters, “And theoretically speaking, I would take _his_ name.”

Lykon chokes, laughing around a mouthful of _picagge_. “So, you admit it! You _have_ thought about this!”

“Nicolὸ al-Kaysani has a better ring to it,” Nicky insists, blushing furiously.

“Taking his last name requires asking him out first, though,” Lykon points out gently.

Nicky sighs and reaches for his wine glass. Lykon doesn’t point it out, but he thinks about the project they all worked on under Quỳnh: it had wrapped up over three years ago. Joe and Nicky themselves have been the only real obstacles in the way for a while now.

“What a pair the two of us make, hm?”

Lykon’s face suddenly grows hot. He shoves a slice of bread into his mouth and mumbles, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Nicky fixes him with a piercing stare. “Yes, you do. That new woman bartending at Gina’s last weekend caught your eye.”

Lykon scrubs his cheek and shrugs. “Yeah, maybe. It was busy last weekend; we barely spoke two words.”

“Well, you can try again on Saturday. You two may not have talked, but the moment you came back to the table, it was obvious that you were distracted.”

“This is slander.”

Nicky snorts but thankfully lets it go. Lykon’s not opposed to pursuing a relationship in the near future, but he’s also very content with the way things are right now. It’s something he needs to think about more, and he’s grateful that Nicky understands this.

Nicky reaches behind him for one of his legal pads and flips through it. Lykon pushes their plates out of the way for Nicky to set it between them. In blocky letters, the header reads: “TEAM LYKON PRANKS.”

He’s copied Lykon’s original list of pranks—it’s satisfying to see two crossed off—and added notes and suggestions of his own. Lykon asks for two pieces of paper and draws a calendar on one and labels the other a supplies list. When Lykon and Nicky first met, it quickly became apparent that they both value methodical organization and attention to detail. They work through the list and finish with the next three days planned out and a shopping list for the weekend.

Lykon and Nicky bring the wine bottle with them as they migrate to the couch. They end the night watching a shitty TV show they’ve accidentally become invested in, feeling fairly confident about their plans for Booker and Joe.

From: Andrea Hector ahector@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com ; nfreeman@bythewood.com ; ndigenova@bythewood.com ; yal-kaysani@bythewood.com ; slelivre@bythewood.com ; phungthiquynh@bythewood.com

Subject: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 9:38 AM

Hi everyone,

With the holidays coming up, Quỳnh and I would like to invite you all to our apartment for brunch on Sunday the 20th at noon. We hope that you can make it; my wonderful wife has been hard at work planning.

For the third year in a row, we’ll also be doing a white elephant gift exchange. It’s entirely voluntary, but we hope to see you all there regardless of whether or not you choose to participate in the gift exchange.

White Elephant Rules:

  1. Everyone who signs up brings one wrapped gift.
  2. The budget is under $30.
  3. There is no theme.
  4. We’ll draw a random order, and everyone will select one gift from the common pool.
  5. We will not be swapping/stealing because we learned last year that it was a bad idea.



Just shoot me a text if you plan to participate. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to reach out to me or Quỳnh.

Best,

Andrea M. Hector

P.S. Please finish your prank war by 5pm on Friday the 18th.

From: Sébastien le Livre slelivre@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 9:45 AM

Andy, why didn’t you just text us all this?

Booker

From: Andrea Hector ahector@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 9:49 AM

You never answer your damn phone, Book.

Andy

From: Nile Freeman nfreeman@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Re: Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 9:56 AM

What happened last year…?

Nile

From: Phùng Thị Quỳnh phungthiquynh@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Re: Re: Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 10:07 AM

We did a gift exchange with all the same rules Andy listed except we went around more than once, so you could swap/steal a gift from someone else or the pool. If one gift was swapped/stolen three times, it was out of the game, and the person who had it in their possession got to keep it.

Most of us had a bit too much to drink, and things may have gotten out of hand…

Quỳnh

From: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com

To: Phùng Thị Quỳnh phungthiquynh@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 10:12 AM

Nile,

“Out of hand” means Quỳnh and Booker wrestled for a bottle of whiskey and ended up spilling it all over the handcrafted rug Nicky’s aunt made for him.

Lykon

From: Yusuf al-Kaysani yal-kaysani@bythewood.com

To: Lykon Ward lward@bythewood.com and 5 others

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Holiday Party

Wed, Dec 2, 10:14 AM

@Booker @Quỳnh can you guys focus on the call instead of shopping for Italian rugs??? Carol just sat through my ten-minute presentation, and her questions have nothing to do with design HELP.

Joe

A routine quickly falls into place that both teams respect: Booker and Joe set up their pranks after work, and Lykon and Nicky prep in the morning. Neither team attempts to sabotage the other during setup.

Lykon silently questions his good sportsmanship when Booker and Joe switch his lunch out for ten rolled-up Kraft Singles filled with marshmallows. They give Nicky a slice of pizza covered in yogurt, who successfully returns it via the pocket of Booker’s winter coat.

Lykon really pushes for butt dialing the CEO, but Nicky—who has met Copley before—vetoes it. They compromise by gluing down everything in Booker’s cubicle and pinning up pictures of clowns in Joe’s.

Team Booker sets up string mazes in their cubicles; Team Lykon hides their desktop keyboards in the ceiling. Nile records it all for everyone else’s amusement.

Gina’s is fairly crowded when the uber drops Lykon and Nicky off. He holds the door open for people coming out and hands Nicky his phone to review their Domino’s order. “What time should they drop it off?”

“How long do you feel like staying?” Lykon asks.

“As long as it takes for you to talk to Celeste. _Properly._ ”

He snorts and gestures for his phone back. “How about 11:30?”

Nicky agrees and leads the way. As they pass the bar, Lykon spies Celeste at the far end passing two beers to a young woman. Nicky shoots him a pointed look, but he ignores it.

They find Andy and Quỳnh sitting hip-to-hip in the corner booth they favor. Andy is speaking and dunking cheese fries into a cup of ranch, and Quỳnh’s listening with a fond smile. Both women turn to greet them when they reach the table.

Lykon stops Nicky with a hand on his shoulder and slides into the booth next to Quỳnh. Nicky shoots him a confused glance as he sits on the end. Quỳnh squeezes Lykon’s shoulder when he settles beside her. He reaches out and steals a few cheese fries from their plate just to watch her roll her eyes and push it closer.

When Booker, Joe, and Nile arrive, Lykon exchanges a glance with Booker. He nods and loops his arm through Nile’s, so they casually fall back. In the lead, Joe gives them all a bright smile as he slides into the booth next to Nicky.

“You’re welcome,” Lykon whispers, smug. Nicky nudges him.

Booker and Nile let Andy slide out to grab the first round before sitting themselves. Lykon leans forward to ask Joe about his presentation with the infamous Carol. He laughs and sets the scene with as much detail as he’s contractually allowed. Nile slips out of the booth partway through to help Andy bring back their drinks.

Nicky asks Quỳnh what she thinks about their pranks, and Booker shoots him a withering look. She laughs and says, “I tried to convince Andy that we should join in, but she refuses to put her new office furniture at risk.”

“I don’t blame her. These two keep ruining my clothing,” Booker gripes.

“Then stop messing with our food,” Nicky counters.

Andy and Nile come back then with a pitcher, a coke for Joe, and wine for Quỳnh. When they’re settled, Joe asks Nile how she’s finding Bythewood. She tells them what she’s been doing and jokes that her mentor is nice but perpetually frazzled. She asks Nicky about his experience working on federal versus state and local government projects.

Booker buys the next round, but when he comes back, he stops short. “Shit, he forgot the coke. I’m sorry, Joe. I’ll go—”

Joe waves his hand and slides out of the booth. “It’s okay, Book. I can go get it.”

The second he’s out of sight, Quỳnh turns and asks, “So, Nicky, what are your plans for the gift exchange? I know a certain someone is looking forward to what you’ve got planned.”

Nicky scrubs his face, cheeks growing red. “I don’t know. I’m probably going to cook something; there’s a few recipes I have in mind. But maybe I should do something different this year and be…less predictable?”

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nile asks slyly. “Joe knows how much you love cooking. If you threw together something just for him—”

“Instant husband!” Lykon finishes. Nicky glares at him.

“ _I_ have an idea,” Quỳnh says, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What if we rigged the drawing, so Joe has to go last. When it’s his turn and the pile is empty, he’ll be wondering where his gift is. Then Nicky you say, ‘Your gift is right here, Joe.’ You point to your dick and ask him, ‘You want to unwrap it back at my place or yours?’”

Lykon, Nile, and Andy’s laughter drowns out Nicky’s groaning. Even Booker is smiling around his scotch. “You are all the worst! The worst I tell you!”

Joe comes back with his coke in hand and asks, “What did I miss?”

As he slides back into the booth, his eyes jump around the group before lingering on Nicky, who flushes and takes a large swig of beer.

Two rounds later, Lykon doesn’t realize he’s started to zone out until Nicky leans over and asks, “When are you going to talk to her?”

Lykon raises his hands, trying to at least _look_ casual. Now that he’s here, he can’t help but feel a little curious. “Easy, Nicky. I don’t want to come off as overeager.”

Nicky purses his lips. “Do you want money to go buy food?”

“You’re _paying_ me to go flirt with a woman?” Lykon laughs.

Nicky shoves a $20 bill in his hand. “Yes. Go buy two plates of cheese fries. And a whiskey.”

Lykon claps Nicky on the shoulder and stands. “I got the next round.”

He takes Andy, Nicky, and Booker’s orders and slips out of the booth. “There he goes!” Booker calls.

Joe whistles. He winks at them and turns the corner. There’s a few people waiting by the bar for their drinks, so Lykon heads to the register and orders cheese fries. With nothing left to fidget with, he stands a few feet away from the bar and tries not to stare.

Celeste is wearing a black t-shirt today, leaving the tattoo stretching up her left arm visible. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, and Lykon notices her dimples when she smiles at a patron. He waits until there’s only two other people standing around before he steps forward. “Hey, how’s it going?”

She looks up from wiping down the counter and smiles politely. He can’t quite tell if her eyes are blue or gray. “I’m well. And you?”

“Good, thanks. It’s much calmer tonight compared to last weekend.”

She nods ruefully, her smile turning wry. “To be honest, I thought bachelorette parties like that one only existed in American films.”

Lykon laughs and wonders whether her comment implies that she remembers him, or if he’s reading too much into it. “So did I when I first moved here.”

He rattles off his friends’ orders, tacking on a whiskey for himself like Nicky suggested. As Celeste works, she asks, “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“I’ve lived a bit all over. I was born in Jamaica, but my family moved to England when I was little. And then we came to the US when I was twelve.

“What about you? My friends and I have been coming here for years, so I figured you were new.”

She sets a glass of whiskey down in front of him; Lykon takes that as an invitation to sit down. He glances around and finds that they’ve hit a lull.

“I’ve lived in Paris my whole life until a few months ago. I’m a nursing student at GW.”

“Undergrad or?”

“No, my master’s.”

“Shit, that’s impressive. How are you liking DC?”

When she comes closer, he catches sight of the dark circles under her eyes. “I haven’t been here long, but I would say that I like it. My days off have been difficult. Until I got this job, I spent them thinking and speaking and writing in French, and then I go back to the hospital and have to switch to English completely.”

Lykon hums sympathetically. “My friend Sébastien mostly speaks French at home with his roommate Joe, and he finds that Mondays are the worst for the same reason. I wish I could offer words of encouragement, but he tells me it doesn’t really get much easier with time.”

Celeste smiles and lines up three glasses along the counter. “Back home I’m a podcast producer in my free time. When I go back for winter break, perhaps I will pick up an English one or two to practice.”

“What kind of podcasts do you work on?”

She slides the check towards him as she answers, and Lykon nearly spells his name wrong in his effort to listen. He slips his credit card in, and Celeste asks him what he does while she rings him up.

They’re talking about things to do around DC when Lykon suddenly realizes that she’s been done with the order for some time now, leaning against the counter and just talking to him. He looks down at his returned credit card and receipt, and Celeste straightens to run the sink. She turns and asks, lips curled into a half-smile, “Is there anything else I can get you, Lykon?”

 _I never told her my name._ A grin creeps up his face. “I think I’m all set. Have a good night, Celeste.”

Lykon takes their drinks and sneaks one last glance before he turns away. He’s still not sure whether or not he wants a relationship, but he can’t deny he enjoyed talking with her and wants to do it again. For now, that’s all that really matters; there’s no rush.

When he returns to the booth, his friends are talking animatedly, eating the cheese fries he forgot he’d ordered. Lykon immediately zeroes in on Joe’s arm resting on the booth behind Nicky. Biting back a grin, he tries to catch Nile’s eye before either Joe or Nicky can notice him.

She spots him and gently nudges Quỳnh to move over. Together, Nile, Quỳnh, Booker, and Andy shift over to make room for Lykon on their side. Nicky is pressed closer to Joe in the process, and Lykon can’t tell if his flushed cheeks are from alcohol consumption or his proximity to Joe.

“How’d it go?” Nicky asks.

“Tell us everything!” Quỳnh adds.

He slides the drinks across the table and takes a seat next to Nile. Andy holds up her glass and says dryly, “I’d say it went well if nearly all the ice in my glass is melted.”

“Sorry, Andy. Celeste seems really cool.”

After a long pause, Nile exclaims, “That’s it?”

Unsatisfied, she and Quỳnh ask a series of follow-up questions he does his best to answer. Nicky beams at him from his place tucked under Joe’s arm.

Eleven o’clock rolls around, and Lykon gets a text that their Domino’s order will be delivered soon. It’s a mild night, so they all stand on the sidewalk while they wait for their rides home. Lykon’s feeling a little buzzed; judging by the way Nicky is humming under his breath and swaying, he’s pretty drunk.

“Will you be all right getting home?” Joe asks.

Nicky fixes him with what Lykon can only call a _besotted_ smile. _Oh, he is_ so _drunk._ “Yes, we’ll be okay. Right, Lykon? We have Domino’s waiting for us!”

Joe laughs and lets Nicky pull him into a hug. He tucks his face into Nicky’s neck, rubbing his thumb between his shoulder blades. Lykon looks away to give them some semblance of privacy. He catches Booker’s eye, and they share an amused glance.

When he turns back, they’re pulling away. Nicky suddenly leans forward to knock his forehead against Joe’s. He seems to use too much force because they both pull away rubbing their heads and laughing. Lykon chuckles to himself and steps forward. He says goodnight to Joe and Booker and steers Nicky towards the uber that’s pulling up to the curb.

Later when they’re enjoying their midnight meal, Nicky murmurs, “Lykon?”

He sets down his cheesy bread and looks up. “Yeah?”

“Do you really think that Joe likes me? All of our friends are convinced that we should be together, but what if it’s just wishful thinking on their part? What if Joe has not said anything because he does not want to hurt my feelings?

“Joe is so kind and attentive and passionate and intelligent and driven. He is so good, Lykon. The _goodest_ man!”

Lykon smiles. “Nick, I know he does. We wouldn’t tease you both if we didn’t know that your feelings were mutual. It’s okay to be afraid about what could happen, but don’t let that stop you from pursuing someone that could make you happy. Have faith in yourself, but also in Joe too.”

Nicky swallows hard, green eyes shining. “Thank you, Lykon. Not just for this but for being the best best friend I’ve ever had. I am so fortunate to have met you.”

Lykon claps him on the shoulder. “’Course. I feel the same. Can I ask you something?”

Nicky slumps back against the base of the couch and nods.

“How long are we going to keep holding the whiskey rug over Book and Quỳnh’s heads? They already had it cleaned almost a year ago: they’re going to figure out sooner or later that we’re just saying our living room smells to mess with them.”

They dissolve into fits of drunken laughter.

“I don’t know,” Nicky giggles. “I don’t know.”

When Lykon asks him to dig out their lava cakes, Nicky stumbles into the kitchen. “They’ll be so much better with ice cream!”

He can’t argue with Nicky’s logic.

Lykon would refuse to admit it, but he practically drops everything the second he sees his sister’s incoming call. He props his phone up against a cereal box and leans on the counter. “Hey, Ny, what’s up? It’s been too long.”

Naomi grins. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Two weeks too long. You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She scrubs her face and sighs. “Calc II is killing me, Lion.”

“Every time I start to feel sorry for you, I suddenly remember that you actively chose to be a physics major,” he teases.

“Look who's talking, Mr. MBA. I’m working on a really hard problem set; is there any chance you could help me out with one or two questions?”

“Sure, I’m making dinner right now, but if you send me the ones you’re struggling with, I can call you back in an hour or two.”

“Thank you so much. I swear my professor enjoys making us cry.”

A drowsy Nicky stalks into the kitchen and smiles around a yawn when he sees Lykon’s phone. He stands behind Lykon and gives a big wave. “Hello, Naomi! How are you doing?”

She smiles and waves back. “Hey, Nicky. I’ve been having an ongoing breakdown over Calculus for the past four months—that pretty much sums it up.”

He hums, wrinkling his nose. “You’re almost done, and then you won’t have to think about it. I will let you get back to your talk, but I just wanted to say that we are all very proud of you no matter what.”

“Thanks, Nicky. I really appreciate it.” He beams at her, shuffling past Lykon to open the fridge.

“So, we were talking about favors,” Lykon says, and Naomi rolls her eyes. “I could use your help on something when you have the time?”

She raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Give me the lowdown first before I say yes _._ ”

“So, I’ve been listening to this podcast a girl named Celeste recommended, and I’m having a hard time following along. Your French is better than mine—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Naomi cuts in, exasperated, “Lykon, I thought you’d already learned your lesson about using languages to impress people. Have you forgotten what happened with Andrei?”

“ _Ny,_ ” Lykon warns.

She ignores him and barrels on. “He’s the reason we’re not invited to Uncle Jimmy’s New Year’s party anymore.”

“We don’t talk about that.”

On the phone screen, he sees Nicky look up from where he’s cutting up fruit at the island. “Isn’t that the ex-boyfriend who slept with—”

“We. Don’t. Talk. About. It.”

“The point is this is not the way to go about it,” Naomi says.

“What words of wisdom would the brothers of Almond Donut Crouton fraternity have for you?” Nicky deadpans.

Naomi laughs. “Ask her to shotgun shitty beer with me,” Lykon says. Nicky jostles him when he passes.

Naomi checks her watch and says, “I don’t have time right now, but I’ll see if I can come up with an action plan of some sort this weekend. For now, all I’ll say is don’t pursue this French podcast. You need to play to your strengths, and French has _never_ been one of them.” Nicky snorts.

“Thanks,” Lykon grumbles. “One last thing: any white elephant gift ideas? I have no idea what to get.”

“Oh my god. You ask me this every year, and you never like my suggestions—okay wait. What about a gift card from Gina’s?” Naomi suggests. “You could go when you know Celeste has a shift and use it as an excuse to talk to her.”

Nicky hums around a mouthful of fruit and points at the camera. “That’s a very good idea!”

“Yeah,” Lykon says slowly, “but I don’t want our friends to see me buying it and ruin the surprise. They’d want details, and Drunk Lykon is not a very good liar.”

“Okaay. What about an oil diffuser? That’s always a safe bet,” Naomi says.

Lykon wrinkles his nose. “No, no. Whatever I buy, it has to be something that I would actually want if I end up needing to pick my own gift.”

“Then why are you asking me? Go pick out a PS4 game or some shit. I don’t know!” Lykon laughs. “Okay, I really have to go. Bye Lion, bye Nicky, see you in a week!”

Lykon promises once again to look at the questions she sent him, and Nicky waves his wooden spoon at the camera. After they hang up, the kitchen falls into a companionable silence with Lykon and Nicky maneuvering around each other to finish prepping dinner.

Lykon jolts awake when the sun suddenly falls in his eyes. He squints and finds Nicky standing by the open curtains with a smile.

“Nick,” Lykon groans, shoving the pillow over his head, “what the fuck.”

“Come with me to the shops, and maybe a white elephant gift will catch your eye.”

He rolls over, grumbling more for show than anything else. “That’s not a bad idea. But just so we’re clear: I’m adding this to the list of things Joe needs to know before you two get married and adopt twelve children.”

Nicky snorts. “What do you mean by ‘this?’”

He rises from the bed. “‘ _This,’_ Future Mr. al-Kaysani,” Nicky throws a sweatshirt at his head, “refers to your schemes at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s 9:30,” Nicky says blithely. Lykon stalks into the bathroom and calls, “Exactly!”

Even though he’s already done this twice before, Lykon finds that white elephant shopping does not get any easier. It’s hard to find something he thinks is both desirable and outside the box. With his sights set on whatever Joe brings, Nicky points out potential gifts to him while also working through their list of prank supplies.

Nicky holds up a box. “What about this small waffle iron?”

“We already have one at home.”

“But do the others?”

Lykon shrugs. “Fair point, but I think we can do better.”

They stop at a row of spinning displays full of greeting cards, keychains, and flower seeds. Lykon crouches to look at the hooks full of American states. “What if I bought, like, ten Idaho keychains?”

Nicky chuckles. “And a packet of sunflower seeds. Does this meet your desirable requirement, though? What would someone do with ten little Idahos?”

“You’re right,” Lykon sighs.

He stands and turns to find Nicky heading towards the posters. He maneuvers their cart around a group of teenagers. Lykon laughs in horror when Nicky comes back holding up a _Minions_ poster with a straight face.

They sift through candles, kitchenware, clothing, electronics, but nothing really catches Lykon’s eye. Nicky suggests they stop for lunch and regroup.

“Before we leave, do you mind if we look at the toys aisle?” he asks. “I want to send something to Emilia’s sons. What do you think would interest a four-year-old and a six-year-old?”

"Why don’t you ask your sister?”

“Because Emilia will tell me to buy nothing. But what is the point of being an uncle if you can’t spoil your nephews from time to time?”

Lykon peers down the rows of Legos when he sees it. “Holy shit, Nicky, _look at this_.” Nicky hums, distracted by a row of airplanes.

He picks up a large Baby Yoda plush toy and clutches him to his chest. “Nick, I think we have a winner. Look at how fucking cute he is.”

Nicky finally looks up and laughs. “I would agree that Baby Yoda is both desirable _and_ outside the box.”

He decides on a set of Paw Patrol racers and a remote-control plane for his nephews, and they head off to lunch.

“Are you ready?” Nicky asks in the elevator.

Lykon grins. “There’s no way they can top this.”

Wielding two Ikea bags full of supplies, they get off at their floor and stop at the breakroom. Nile is sitting on the counter next to the coffee machine. When she sees them, she pulls out her headphones and greets them.

“The coffee’s safe?” Lykon asks.

Nile hums and passes him a cup. She leans forward and raises her eyebrows at the sight of their Ikea bags. “Shit, you guys aren’t messing around today.”

“It’s the grand finale. We’re done for good at five.”

With coffee in hand, the three of them walk to Booker’s cubicle. Lykon tells Nile to take the desk chair, so she sets her phone up and sits in the hallway to observe. Nicky hands her a beret, and she puts it on with a laugh.

“Should we hide the speaker first or put up the flags?” Nicky asks.

“I think flags first. Don’t want to accidentally shift the speaker.”

Nicky takes off his shoes and rises to stand on Booker’s desk. Lykon passes him two shoelaces and then one corner of a French flag. While Nicky is securing it to the ceiling, Lykon turns to Nile’s phone and says in his worst French accent, “Look at the state of your desk, Book. _Zut alors!_ ”

“ _Sacrebleu_ ,” Nicky adds.

They hang up two other French flags before moving onto the speaker. Nicky lifts Booker’s desk off the ground, and Lykon hides a bluetooth speaker behind the drawers. When he crawls out, Nicky sets the desk down and reaches for his phone. “Hang on, I want to test it.”

Lykon peers over his shoulder and laughs. Nicky’s made a playlist that consists of Édith Piaf’s “Non, je ne regrette rien” six times in a row, followed by “Do You Hear the People Sing?” and “Non, je ne regrette rien” three more times.

Nicky synchs his phone to the speaker, and Piaf’s voice fills the cubicle. Lykon picks up Nile’s phone, and they all sing along loudly. For the final touch, Nicky places the baguette they picked up on the way to work parallel to Booker’s keyboard. Lykon points to it and says seriously to the camera, “Oui oui baguette.”

Nile pushes Booker’s desk chair back in, hanging the beret over the monitor. “This is amazing. Are you ready to see what they’ve been up to?”

Lykon sighs. “Not really.”

He leads the way, stopping short when he sees bright colors filling the doorway. Booker and Joe have blocked off the entrance with netting and turned his cubicle into a ball pit. Nicky roars with laughter. Lykon turns to Nile and her phone in disbelief. “You bastards. How the hell do I get in?”

He briefly entertains the idea of Nicky giving him a leg up but quickly disregards it. “We can try the Ikea bags,” Nicky suggests.

He holds them open as Lykon dumps the plastic balls in. Even with the bags, they barely make a dent in the ball pit. Nicky goes to the supply closet to fetch bigger trash bags. They kneel on the floor and for the second time in two weeks, his coworkers have to awkwardly pass around him upon arrival. With four bags filled, Lykon resigns himself to a layer up to his ankles for the rest of the day. “You should send _these_ to your nephews,” Lykon jokes.

Throughout the rest of the day, Nicky blasts his playlist at random. Booker shows up to lunch in Andy’s office with multiple coffee stains littering his shirt. “Where the fuck did you hide the speaker? I’ve torn my desk apart, and I can’t find it.”

Nicky laughs until he finds that the filling of his sandwich has been replaced by a stack of glowsticks. With Quỳnh’s permission, he broadcasts the whole playlist at 4:30 in the middle of their meeting. Later, Quỳnh says she’s never seen his face so red.

At five o’clock, they all convene in Andy’s office. Both teams agree to a tie, so Nicky gives Booker and Joe the focaccia he’d prepared as a peace offering. In turn, Booker hands over a bottle of wine. They all sit around for a snack break until Andy kicks them all out.

Brunch at Andy and Quỳnh’s turns out to be as classy of an affair as they’d hoped. Lykon certainly thinks that it’s their best holiday party yet. After eating, they migrate to the living room, where the white elephant gifts cover the coffee table.

“My heart, you go first. You organized this, after all,” Andy murmurs.

“Well, if you insist.” Quỳnh kisses her and then stands to circle the coffee table with calculating eyes.

Lykon hides his grin behind his glass when she picks up his gift. She rips the tissue paper away and peers into the large bag beaming. “Oh my god!” She lifts Baby Yoda out and hugs him to her chest. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Andy stares at Quỳnh with a bewildered expression. She reaches out and runs her fingers over a long ear. “What _is_ this?”

The others laugh. “Andy, how have you never seen Baby Yoda before?” Joe asks. “The world had a meltdown over him.”

“I don’t really watch TV.”

Quỳnh sets Baby Yoda in Andy’s lap, and they watch her turn him from side to side, skeptical. “Who do I have to thank for this?”

Lykon raises his hand. He sets his mimosa down in time for Quỳnh to wrap her arms around him from behind and press kisses to his cheek. “I love him. Thank you very much.”

“You might have to send us pictures every so often,” Nicky remarks. “Lykon has grown emotionally attached to him.”

“I have not.”

“You tucked Baby Yoda into our couch every night for a week.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t catch him acting as your sous-chef yesterday,” Lykon retorts.

Booker goes next and grabs a small square box that uses duct tape to keep the paper closed. When he unwraps the gift, Lykon isn’t sure at first what it is. It looks like an ordinary belt, but then Booker laughs and holds it up with the tag facing them. “It’s a beer holster.” He puts it on, slipping his open beer against his hip. “This is great.”

“That’s a mighty fine contraption you got there, partner,” Lykon drawls. Booker mimes tipping a cowboy hat.

Andy smiles. “I was going to go for a pocketknife, but I couldn’t find one I liked enough.”

“Andy, what the _fuck?_ ” Nile asks.

“Over the years, I’ve found that the less you know about Andy’s extracurricular activities the better,” Booker says. Andy’s smile turns smug.

Nile picks what is easily the best-wrapped gift on the table. The little flourish that’s tucked under the bow has Quỳnh written all over it. She unwraps a burgundy cashmere scarf, and her eyes widen. Nicky whistles; Lykon wants to tease Quỳnh for breaking the $30 rule but doesn’t after seeing Nile’s excitement. “Try it on!” he says instead.

She wraps it around her neck with exaggerated movements, and when the others cheer, strikes a pose. “Who picked this?” she asks, looking around the group.

Booker raises his hand and says, “I am a connoisseur of high fashion—”

“Hardly,” Quỳnh scoffs, elbowing him. Nile crosses the room to give her a hug, wrapping her scarf around them both.

Nicky goes next, and Lykon has to bite down on the thumb to keep from laughing at the way he pretends to survey the gifts before casually picking up Joe’s. Nicky unwraps the present carefully despite Nile’s encouragement to just tear the paper and Andy’s pained expression. He laughs and holds up a Bob Ross painting kit for everyone to see.

“I think Joe’s trying to tell you something about your artistic skills, Nicky,” Booker jokes.

“It could do with a few happy trees,” Joe says, eyes twinkling.

He’s got his arm resting on the couch behind Nicky, and this time Joe lowers it around his broad shoulders. Nicky leans back into him with a smile. “Thank you, this is fantastic.”

Andy goes next and shakes the present she picks, curious. “Is it a brick?”

She tears through the paper, revealing a long narrow box. Nile smiles mysteriously. “It’s not just any kind of Jenga. Open it.”

Andy takes her advice and pulls out three pieces. From where he’s sitting, Lykon can tell that there’s writing on both sides of each. “This one says ‘Text your ex’ on one side and ‘Venmo @nfreeman $1’ on the other. Is this—”

“Drunk Jenga,” Nile confirms.

The others lean forward to look, so Andy shakes a few pieces onto the coffee table. “‘Body shot’ or ’60 second hot seat,’ and there are drawings! Nile, you’ve outdone yourself,” Joe says.

Lykon holds up a piece. “Oh, I like this one. ‘Switch shirts with the person on your left’ or ‘Tell a secret.’”

Andy slings an arm around Nile’s shoulders and says, “We’ll have to break this in after the holidays.”

Unlike Nicky, Joe doesn’t hesitate to reach forward and snag the one he wants. Lykon suspects that they both tried to identify each other’s gifts—at least in the case of Nicky. He actually found Joe sneaking a peek in the fridge for Nicky’s.

When Joe sits back, Nicky presses his knee against his. The present is balanced precariously on Joe’s knees while he peels back the wrapping paper. He holds up a large Tupperware container, and his face lights up.

“What is it?” Andy asks, craning her neck to see.

Nicky shoots Joe a shy smile. “It’s homemade pansoti with a walnut sauce. I remembered how much you liked it the last time I made it, so I thought…”

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Nico.”

Joe gently sets the pansoti on the coffee table and wraps his arm around Nicky’s shoulders. After a moment, he reaches up and squeezes Joe’s hand. Lykon smirks into his mimosa.

The only gift left on the table is nearly the length of the coffee table. Lykon sits forward and pulls it towards him. By process of elimination, this has to be Booker’s. The Frenchman is watching him gleefully. Without preamble, he tears the wrapping paper off and holds the gift aloft. “Oh my god, what _is this,_ ” Lykon cries. He turns the box to show the others, who burst into laughter.

“It’s a fishing pole campfire roaster. You can roast up to two marshmallows and one hot dog simultaneously,” Booker says, grinning.

“Where the hell did you find that?” Nile asks.

Booker shrugs. “I have my ways.”

Nicky leans over Lykon’s shoulder to look at the picture on the box. “I’m very surprised you didn’t use this for a prank.”

“He nearly did,” Joe replies. “But I convinced him to bide his time.”

Lykon sets it on the ground next to the couch and rests his forearm against it. “This is amazing, Book.” With a small, pleased smile, he raises his beer in reply.

Quỳnh stands to retrieve the television remote. “We have one more surprise.”

“An Italian rug?” Booker deadpans. Andy shoots him a look.

“Nile compiled all of her prank war videos into one and would like to share it.”

“Do we really need to see Booker’s ass in HD?” Lykon sighs.

Nile hops over their legs to plug in her phone. “Don’t worry, that's only ten seconds.”

As everyone rearranges to better see Andy and Quỳnh’s television, Lykon takes in the wrapping paper scattered around on the floor, forgotten mimosa glasses, and Jenga pieces propped up on the coffee table. He looks around at their strange, wonderful little family, and he’s so full of love for them his heart aches.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, I'll just be sitting here thinking about Lykon and Celeste going hiking in the Appalachian Mountains, and he just whips out his fishing pole campfire roaster lolol. No, I did NOT make this up. https://www.uncommongoods.com/product/fishing-pole-campfire-roaster
> 
> Fun fact: I once had a camper who liked to eat marshmallows rolled up in Kraft Singles for breakfast and wasn't really amenable to other options. Still cannot believe I had to witness that with my own two eyes.
> 
> Here's some links if anyone is interested:  
> I've only ever done a white elephant the way they end up doing, but when I was doing some research I came across this website, which describes a few different variations. Poor Nicky's rug!  
> https://www.whiteelephantrules.com/
> 
> When I was looking for recipes for Nicky I found this lovely blog by a Genoese home cook. https://www.asmallkitcheningenoa.com/pansoti-recipe/  
> https://www.asmallkitcheningenoa.com/ligurian-green-home-made-pasta-picagge/
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ merlinn if you ever want to chat!


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